


Hotel Decepticon

by Trident



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Betrayal, Drabble, Gen, somewhat dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29959986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trident/pseuds/Trident
Summary: The mission was supposed to be simple: get in, get the info, and get out. He got in with no problem. The information seemed to be false rumors. But when trying to get out, Jazz hit an unlucky snag. Perhaps those "false rumors" were real after all. Too real.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Hotel Decepticon

“Ah. Jazz. I see you have had no trouble in making yourself at home.”

“Aw, ya know me, Prowl. Why would Ah turn down a free roof over mah helm?” Jazz returned, giving his first genuine smile since the orn he had been captured. Finally, the rescue party had arrived. Normally, he could free himself, thanks to his many dozens of vorns as a saboteur. Alas, it seemed the Decepticons were finally learning from their previous mistakes. Alright, so he was beginning to think that the rumors of Shockwave or some other new officer on Earth were true.

The Praxian’s faceplates revealed nothing as he began to circle the shadowy perimeter of the cells. Almost leisurely, Prowl scraped one of his claws against the energon coated walls. Jazz watched closely as his fellow black and white mech inspected it with cold optics so full of disinterest. After a few moments of tense silence, Prowl flicked the sticky energon off of his digits. Each drop made a soft ‘pling’ as they landed on the frame of a deactivated vehicon.

“Allow me to guess: The room service could use some work?” Prowl inquired dryly. The sharp glint in Prowl's crystal blue optics signaled to Jazz that his friend was amused. Why then did the familiar look feel so wrong?

“Yeah. Somethin’ like that,” Jazz answered, wriggling slightly in his restrains, silently asking for help removing them. The longer they waited here chit-chatting, the more likely it was that the Decepticons would catch on. “Ah think Ah better have a word or two with the manager on our way out.”

Instead of moving to free him, Prowl completed his lap about the shadows. Jazz craned his neck to watch as the Praxian paused for a moment, only to turn towards him in a deliberately slow fashion. As Prowl’s wings rose to meet the pale indigo light of the cell, Jazz learned why his friend’s look had felt so wrong. Behind his cracked blue visor, Jazz’s silver optics grew to astronomical size. Twin Decepticon insignias stared back at him. 

The Praxian’s smirk only grew as he revealed a shock prod out from behind his back. “Unfortunately for you, I am the manager. As for those words: I hope you learn to enjoy your stay, Jazz. You won’t be leaving for quite sometime~.”


End file.
